The Lookouts
by DeathMcGunz
Summary: (AU) In a universe much like our own, several kids take up the mantle to protect a dangerous forest, using the spirits of the legendary heroes, Finn, Jake, BMO, Princess Bubblegum, and Marceline.
1. Pilot Episode

"Who's that?" Heath said. He was a boy built like a pickup-truck with busted-tire shoes and a dirty windshield of a face. He was motioning Thomas to the front of the crowd, where the new troop leader was standing. She was an older lady, looking like partial melted marshmallows on a bent stick. Next to her was a girl.

"That's Emily," Thomas said. "Marie's friend. She plays D&D with us sometimes."

"The fuck's she already an Eagle scout?"

"I dunno." Thomas took in the girl like he always did. A porcelain doll dressed in the best rags and sculpted just as you'd like her. Porcelain face with a porcelain expression, with her porcelain motions and porcelain impression. It always felt like winter around her.

"The fuck's Paul?"

"Don't think he's comin'."

"That fat piece of shit." Paul was on tip toe, hand on Thomas for support.

In the parking lot, an old van dropped off Marie along with her brother Ian. They were both tall like trees and just as thin, with shaggy, evergreen hair and skin worn white by the indoors. She waved at Thomas but walked to Emily. They talked about things that no one else heard. Thomas watched and fiddled with the phone, silent in his pocket.

"I hope he doesn't come over here."

"Who?"

"Ian."

"Why not?"

"Just don't like him."

"His sister's alright."

"Yeah well he's just annoying."

"Hey guys!" He came over. His voice was like gravel in a deep funnel. "Paul stay home?"

"Yup."

"Yup."

"Did he say why?" Ian took out his phone. "He told me that he was…'helping grandma'. But I doubt it."

"He just told us that he couldn't afford the trips."

"That lying piece of shit. Why couldn't he just tell me that? I knew he was lying. He always lies about the dumbest shit."

"I'm gonna get a drink. Thomas?"

"Grape. Thanks."

"Maybe I should text him." Ian drabbed on and Thomas stared ever at Emily. She smiled at Marie as they talked up at the front. He thought of a time when she looked beautiful and made it sexual in his mind. His cheeks flushed.

"Yo, peeps."

"Sup." Blake and Zoey came up from different directions. Blake had her dirt bike helmet tucked under her arm and a piece of gum in her mouth. By the look of it, it was several days old. Zoey pulled on her tight uniform. It was a size too small. They talked with Ian and shared his venom and complained together in their own little bubble that Thomas drifted from.

Nobody else mattered in that moment and they would continue to not matter for many moments to come.

"Welcome, Scouts." A wind blew in through the trees across the gathering. Emily straightened up, Marie dashed off the stage and down into the crowd with Thomas. Heath returned with his pop. Parents got into their cars and left. "This is the first meeting for your troop and I'm quite sure that all of you are new to the Eagle program.

"This is a momentous occasion in your adolescent lives. You are no longer baby-sat on extended camping trips. You will be let loose in these woods with the gear you can carry and you will be expected to demonstrate survival skills. This is not a joke. Those of you who are here this is your last chance. This will not be a vacation. Survival is hard work. So quick, before your parents leave. Run away."

A few of the nameless scattered.

"The rest of you, the true Eagle scouts among you, this will be something you will never forget. This time spent out here in nature, with your friends, it will cling to you. All those parents that tell you these are the best days of your life, they're talking about this. And you will be too. Forever.

"On to business. You will be put into groups of five. I will not assign these groups. You choose people you can stand for several days at a time. You choose people who you think would make good survivalists. Maybe your friends aren't the right choice. Whomever you choose, make it quick. You'll want to be out in the woods before the sun goes behind the trees."

Thomas grasped Heath's shoulder. Marie grasped his.

"Emily?" Thomas said.

"Blake." That was Marie.

"Anyone but Ian."

"Hey!"

"What? I don't like him."

"That's my brother."

"Whatever."

"Whenever you get into your groups, grab you packs from the shed and go on. There are several camp sites littered throughout the area. Don't worry about leaving the woods. These trees go for miles. This is not your boy scout trail. This is not the woods behind the school. Work together. You'll all have a walkie if you are in any danger. Call me on channel three. Now come on. Sun won't stay singing all day."

"Yo," Blake said. "She had Zoey by the ascot and was dragging her behind. "We got five?"

"I think so."

"Then let's get moving. I heard someone say something about stealing packs."

"I'll knock them the fuck out."

"Where are we gonna go?"

"Canyons?" Thomas said.

"I hate the canyons," said Marie.

But they moved, grabbing five packs and hiking into the thick Appalachian woods. Through spider webs, down deer trails, over fallen trees. The trek was sweaty. The air was thick with last night's rain. Every step was a struggle.

"I wished we coulda got Emily," Thomas said.

"I know," said Marie. She put a hand on his shoulder and they shared a smile.

"Ha, gay!" Heath trudged through.

It was nightfall when they reached the first canyon.

"Fuck yeah," Heath said. "Box canyon."

"It's super cold in there."

"Duh. That's for when the sun's out.'

"Where do we camp now?" Heath pointed to the top. "I don't wanna climb up there."

"Oh come on. It's not that much further."

"These packs are getting heavy."

"Buncha babies."

"Well where are you going?" Marie said.

"I'm climbing. Anyone who's man enough can join me."

"Thom. You're not going up there, are you?"

Thomas looked at the three girls. "I'll help set up camp, but we can't split up the party too much. That's rule number one."

"Fine." Marie dropped her pack, Blake blew a bubble, and Zoey sighed.

The sun was behind the trees then, casting a blue night on the croaking forest. Cicadas chirped in the trees. The fire popped with wet twigs and old newspaper. The girls gathered around it, warming themselves from their sweat stained clothes. They talked too loud.

Up at the top of Box Canyon, Heath and Thomas shuffled their Card Wars decks by the light of their lanterns. Shirts off, hanging on sticks by the fire to dry, sleeping bags pulled up like coffins. They began their game.

"So Emily, huh?"

"What?"

"You dig her."

"No. I mean, she's cool. But no."

"Come on, dude. I know it's still fresh with Samantha, but don't try to lie to me. I got them crazy eyes. I see shit."

"Okay. She's cute."

"She's alright."

"She's freakin' beautiful."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Shut up. You like fat chicks anyways."

"Hey!" Heath pointed with comedic aggression. "We all need a little lovin'."

"That's all you're givin' them. A little lovin'."

"Boy, I'm like a tripod…shh, what's that?" The walkie-talkie crackled with a signal just out of reach. The voice came through in clumps of static and silence.

"They in trouble?"

"I don't know." Heath stood and went to the edge of the canyon, standing a hundred feet over the icy bottom. "Hey! The fuck's wrong down there?"

"What?" Marie's voice echoed.

"I said! The fuck is wrong with you all?"

"What?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ. I said!"

"Heath, dude, shut the fuck up. She's just fuckin' with you." Heath scoffed.

"Come in?" The voice crackled through.

"Hello?"

"Best be someone come to kill them. If not I'm gonna climb my ass down and do it."

"Shh," Thomas said. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Thomas, we got it." Marie on the other side. "It's nothing. Go back to your…whatever the hell it is you're doing."

"Wait," Zoey said through the walkie. "We could've been like, harassing them from down here the entire time? Hellooooo. Oooooo. Spooky shit."

"Shut the fuck up, Zoey." Heath said.

"Oooooooooo!"

"Guys, guys, guys," Blake said. "I think I left my dad's beer on my bike."

"They got beer?" Heath said.

"They can't hear you."

"Ask them. They got beer?" Heath picked up his walkie. "You got beer?"

"Nope. Left it on the bike."

"Damn."

"Would you all please shut up. Emily's trying to come in so I need this channel clear. Okay? Thank you."

Thomas lowered his walkie and looked out over the canyon. The girls fire looked forever away. Heath slapped him hard on the back, stinging his sunburn.

"Now's your chance, man. Just go down there, slide up all sly-like. Slick your eyebrows, give her a big whiff of your man-scent, look her in the eye and say, 'ey baby, want some fuck?'". They tore into laughter.

Down in the girl's camp, Emily stumbled into the fire-light, a compass in one hand and a flashlight strapped to her head. Dirt smeared her legs and face, the sweat running grooves in her skin. She tucked her knees close as she sat. Marie mimicked her, maybe without even knowing.

"How'd you even find us?"

"Oh, when you said Box Canyon I knew. Mom's been having me help her since I was in normal scouts. You guys actually picked a really great spot. In the day it stays really cool in the canyon, and the river's not too far. It's just right over there. There's fish usually and no one comes down it this far so you should be alone."

"We'll make the douche-brothers go do all the boring stuff while we fish tomorrow."

"I was about to say. Where's the rest of your group?"

Marie pointed to the top of the canyon. "They wanted to climb."

"Oh. I'm surprised they haven't seen any animals or anything."

"There aren't bears around here are there?" Zoey craned her neck to look around her little field of light.

"Not usually," Emily said. Zoey sighed. "But there are mountain lions sometimes. Especially in the summer, like July. Just cause it stays pretty cool around here. But you should be alright."

"So are you gonna join our group and help us out?" Zoey said.

"Oh I'm sure she can't. She's probably got her own group," Marie said.

"Well no, I don't actually."

"Oh."

"But I still can't." Marie looked out into the darkness as Emily continued. "I've gotta help my mom and stuff. Dad usually joins us out here and we stay near the tower. You know, in case of fires."

"Fire, right."

The girls fell silent. The campfire popped and sparks danced into the sky. Marie watched one twist into the leaves above, wondering if it might catch a dry patch and start an unstoppable forest fire. Maybe a branch would fall and scar Emily, or just break her ankle or something. Nothing too permanent. Just enough to put Marie on a level playing field.

Marie had the body of a ghost of a little boy and often wished that she were both a ghost and a boy. She stared envious at Emily's chest and ass and hoped that maybe adolescence was taking its time with her. But at sixteen, her mother had told her that she was as far along as she would get. Even Blake, with her short, pixie haircut and sharp eyes filled her uniform out till near burst.

"Welp." Emily stood up.

"Welp," Marie said.

"You guys got enough fire wood?"

"Yeah, yeah. We're good."

"Alright then."

"Bye, Emily." Blake and Zoey waved.

"Bye, guys."

"Oh, wait. Could you check on Ian for me? I didn't get to see what group he was in."

"He's with my mom's group, helping with the trails I think. I'm pretty sure I saw him."

"Well tell him to stop by if he has a chance."

"Will do."

"Okay, thanks."

"See you later, guys."

She walked off into the blackness of the woods, a little speck of light bobbing between the trees.

Then she screamed.

It was a terror kind of scream, one that comes from a place that doesn't exist until you think you're going to die. Marie's head snapped up and her body went rigid with paralytic adrenaline, heart thumping much too quick.

"What was that?" Zoey asked with headlight eyes. Blake sprung up, ear turned towards the sound. "Flashlight," she said. No one reacted to her. "Gimme a god damn flashlight." Marie reacted with fumbling grasps at her bag. "Here, here," she said. Blake clicked it on and pointed it out into the forest. "Emily?"

Out from the darkness she came like a haunting, collapsing to her knees in half-ragged breaths. She tugged at her ponytail and unbuttoned the top button of her uniform.

"She can't breathe."

"Wha, what? Whadowee do?"

Emily waved her hand at them.

"I don't know."

"I'm—fine—just—fine."

Her palms went into the dirt and her back rose and fell.

"I'm okay. I'm okay. I just…there was something out there."

"There's a what?"

"Something, a big…I don't know. Something."

"Should we call someone?"

"I'll radio mom. I think I scared it off. It was like, eating something and I literally walked into it. When I screamed it dashed off." She waved in a direction. "Somewhere."

"Jesus, should we leave?"

"I don't…I don't think so. I don't know. It should be okay. Let me call mom." Emily stood, brushed herself off and talked into the walkie.

"We should tell the boys, right?" Marie was standing no, legs locked so they wouldn't tremble.

"What if it got them?" Zoey said.

"It didn't get them. Right?" Marie turned to Emily who shrugged. "No way. They're fine. Just call them."

"The shit's not working." Blake tossed her walkie-talkie.

"What?"

"The walkie-talkie. It's just static."

"Emily?"

"Yeah, same for me. All channels. I tried them all."

"Cell phones?"

"Of course the cell phones aren't going to work. We're out in the middle of nowhere. Haven't you seen the movies! This is where we get picked off one-by-one by some creature and in the end we find out it's just one of the other campers in a mask."

"Brody." Blake and Zoey shared a look.

"Stop it, Zoe. You're freakin' me the fuck out."

"I lost my flashlight out there," Emily said.

"Should we go get it?"

"No way. I'm not leaving the fire."

"Come on, it's just right over there right?"

"I don't know. I think? I went…west? Where's my compass?"

A twig snapped and the girls became painted in place, silhouetted by the dying fire. Marie looked to Emily, who looked to Blake and Zoey. They were looking at each other but then looked out into the trees.

"It's probably just the guys, right? They heard Emily scream and they're coming to give us a scare…hehe…right?"

"Wrong." A voice came from the black. It was a deep echoing chamber; It's source unknown. The dark hid all but it's amber eyes that shone between trees and through the brush.

"Guys, I think I pissed myself."

"Zoey, shut up."

"I can't…I can't…" Zoey said, backing away from the fire.

"Zoey!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" She took off, tripping and falling, crawling back to her feet and continuing to run.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck."

"She's fuckin' dead."

"No," said the voice. "Why get one when I can get three?"

"Wait," Emily said. "So he won't just go after one of us."

"Who said that I'm a he?"

"Oh, sorry. She."

"It's okay, dinner."

"What the fuck is going on?" Marie snapped.

"Don't panic too much," said the undetermined gendered voice. "It ruins the meat. Try to stay calm."

"Fuck you."

"Well that's just…just not very nice at all. Cursing tends to make for weak lungs."

"Marie," Emily said. She grapped Marie by the shoulders. "It said it won't go after one us. We split up and head," she looked at her compass, "easy. That's where the river is."

"What about Zoey?"

"Fuck Zoey," Blake said. "She ran off."

"What are you saying, food? You're all talking rather low. Like you're plotting." The voice growled. "Plotting makes for tender thighs."

"Did it just call me fat?" Blake said.

"Tender," Emily said. "Split up. Okay? We can follow the river down. There's a station."

"What about the boys?"

"Who?"

"They're up at the top of the canyon."

"They should be fine."

"She's right. We can't leave them."

"Speak up! I'm starting to worry. I only like to pace for so long before I pounce. There's usually more panicking at this juncture."

"'We're panicking, don't worry."

"Yeah, we're just doing it to ourselves."

"Oh, wonderful. Then I'll give you ten more seconds of that before I tear your bodies to shreds. Sound fair?"

"Can we make it fifteen?" Blake said.

"No. I can't count that high."

"Twelve?"

"Fine. Twelve seconds. Then I feast." The voice growled as the eyes orbited the campsite. "1…2…3…"

"So split up? River?"

"Canyon."

"Fine, whatever. Canyon."

"7…8…9…"

"Okay, okay. But what if it follows just one of us?" Marie said.

"Punch it in the nose," said Blake.

"I think that's sharks."

"Twelve…ready or not, though I hope you're ready because that makes for more jelly in the eyes, here I come!"

"Run!"

The girls scattered, cutting paths into the forest, leaving the fire behind. Marie moved spry over a fallen log. Emily leapt a bush. Blake pushed through low branches. Above them the canyon stared down with starry hair. Its cold breath pushed out across their sweating faces. Behind them, the beast may have been following, but they didn't dare to look nor stop to listen. Run, run, run. That's all they did, with a blinding pain sinking deep into their calves. They climbed. Hands clawed into the mud and grasped at tree trunks.

At the top, the boys had long put out their fire. The girls called for each other in whispers and frantic voices. Directions became muddles without sight and even up and down become confused. The threes blotted out the sky. The moon hid behind clouds and all the stars hid behind the leaves.

Marie collapsed and hugged against a tree. "Emily," she called. "Thomas."

Somewhere as much as fifty feet away, Emily fell into a sticker-bush. They dug into her arms and legs, sinking into her palms and cheeks. She screamed and struggled, drawing blood from the wounds. The iron in her blood hit the air and swam the air currents into the nostrils of the beast. It smirked and meandered towards her.

"Marie." A flashlight shown through the night. She covered her eyes, squeezed them tight, wished for warmth. "Shit, I think she's hurt."

"I flippin' told you there was something after us." That was Blake.

"Yeah well, women like to make a mountain out of a mole hill." Heath.

"I'm here, Marie." Thomas knelt next to her, grabbing her arm. "Can you stand? Come on."

"What happened?"

"I told you," Blake started.

"Yeah, yeah. Attack. What the fuck was it?"

"We didn't see it. But it spoke."

"It was probably some creep from camp."

"Brody," Thomas said.

"That's what I was thinking."

"It wasn't some fuckin' guy!" Blake smacked hard on Heath's shoulder. "Fuckin' listen to me. We need to get to the river."

"Emily," Marie said.

"What?"

"We gotta get Emily." She let go of Thomas and used the tree to help her stand. The throbbing in her legs was like a tear that throbbed with each pump of blood. "Did you see her?"

Thomas shook his head. Marie and Blake shared a look.

"Emily! 'The fuck are you?"

"Heath!"

"What?"

"Shut the hell up. We don't want that thing to hear us."

"I don't know how the fuck we're going to find her then."

It was then that she screamed.

Blake gave Heath a look. He shook his head, grabbed the flashlight. "Shut up. Let's go." Together they went after Emily, who was still caught in the sticker-bush. Thorns drew blood from her arms. Trickles of salty sweat ran down to her lips and dripped from her chin.

In the dark, the creature had no form. Its floating amber eyes and Cheshire grin stared down into Emily. Seven rows of teeth spun like a machine in its mouth and when it spoke, it's lips did not move. "One is better than none," it said. "So you will have to do."

"What about the others?"

"I'll maybe, possibly get them next. Depends. You might fill me up."

"That's not fair."

"What? I think it's entirely fair."

"How come only I get eaten?"

"Well, you ran."

"We all ran."

"I don't see them though. If they were here, then maybe I could just eat little bits of all of you."

"I can take you to them."

"Ha!" the creature laughed. "You don't know where they are."

"Yeah-huh."

"Prove it."

"I…how can I do that without actually taking you there?"

"Hmm, very good point." The beast purred like a tiger. "Very well then. Up you go. Come on. Show the way."

Emily took her time picking the thorn-branches from her arms and legs. The beast sighed and with a few still stuck to her, yanked her forward, tossing her into the mud. "Come on. I'm getting hangry." It nudged her forward as she stood. "You know? When you get so hungry you're irritated? Hangry. It's like a mix of hungry and angry."

"Yeah," Emily said. "I got it."

"Good, good. Come on. Where are your dinners?"

"Dinner?"

"Oh, Freudian Slip, sorry. Where are you friends?"

"Just over here."

"Promise?"

"What? Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

Emily walked through the woods, hoping beyond all doubt that she could get to the river before the creature realized where it was. Somewhere nearby, but far enough away to be inaudible, the rest of the group walked along the edge of the canyon, feeling the cool gusts push up along the wall as they flashed the light into the dense woods, hoping to find Emily.

"Should we call her name?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"That thing will hear us."

"What if he's gone?"

"It's not a he, Heath." Blake said. "It said it was undetermined."

"What? Are you fucking serious?"

"Guys," Marie hissed. "Shut it. Just keep moving the light. If anything she'll be able to see us."

"Maybe she got lost and went back to your camp?"

"No, no. If anything she would have gone…shit. Do you guys know where the river is?"

"Duh," Heath said.

"Take us." They moved quicker than Emily, having a light to guide them, and with the size of Box Canyon, the two groups got closer before heading down the large slope that descended to the river bank. The flashlight came in from the left of Emily, catching her eye as soon as it reflected amber off the beast's.

"Ah, yes," it said. "There they are."

"Shit."

"Huh? Did you say something? Sorry, I'm hard of hearing this late at night."

"I said, 'that's it'. There they are." She laughed nervously.

"Yes, quite. Well, I'll just need your arm then. Which one do you use the most?"

"I'm a lefty."

"So I'll take the right," it said, brushing against her back. Its thick, coarse fur scratched the fabric of her uniform and made the backs of her arms itchy. "I'm not completely unreasonable. In fact, I like to think I'm quite economical. Don't you think?"

"What?" Emily stared at the flashlight as it wiggled back and forth in the distance. "Yeah, sure."

"Though your legs do look nice." The beast licked its jagged tongue, made from compacted sand and shreds of glass, up the back of her thigh. Emily shivered. "Maybe I should take one? Or half of both…hmm, yes."

"No! You wouldn't want to do that."

"I do say, why not?"

"Because…" she said, then took off running.

"Well that's just…I can't believe how rude this moment is. I am literally stunned." The beast dashed after her. "Not literally, I suppose. Figuratively."

"Guys!" Emily yelled out. Thomas, Marie, Heath, and Blake all turned their gaze, flashlight beam striking Emily. "The other way!"

"Is that Emily?"

"What's she saying?"

"Of course it's fuckin' her. Who else would it be?"

"I don't know. The hollow tree? I can't hear her."

"Guys!" Emily yelled.

"Emily!" They yelled back.

"Go the other way!" She stumbled around a tree giving the group a quick glance at the beast with its amber eyes. In the dark it floated, but the impression it made on the night woods was colossal.

The group scrambled. Heath grabbed a stick, which fell in half. Marie put her hands over her mouth and watched, her muscles tensing to rigidity. Blake stuck her middle finger in the air at the beast. All of this in slow motion as Thomas turned to see the cliff's edge behind him, only a few large steps away.

With his ushering, the group shifted its momentum and pushed back the way they came. Emily cut her path so that she would meet with them, and they ran. Hair bouncing in refracted moonlight, loose clothes billowing behind like a flag of fear, muscles stretched and strained to taught lengths. Still slow motion, your favorite song playing in the background, making the scene ethereal. Like a movie.

Thomas slowed, letting the rest to push past him as Emily reached him. With a push on the small of her back he was at the back of the pack. The snarls of the beast licked at the back of his neck raising the hairs and prickling his arms. Even in slow motion it mocked and taunted. "Chubby little legs," It said. "I'll take both of yours and leave the pale girl alone. The fat makes the meat so juicy." The sweat beat down his face, his body wanting to give up on the run and let him die. Anything to stop running.

The claws of the beast slipped forward and drew a line down his back. The skin rendered and spilt his blood free, red and smelly. A laugh from the beast. One that slipped from its lips. It was an embarrassing laugh, like your uncle at Thanksgiving, but filled with such joy that it seized Thom's mind and filled it with only one thought that skipped, repeating over and over: "I'm going to die. This is what it feels like to die. It feels like any other day."

"Yes, yes. I think I'll only take you. Pudgy, pudgy little fatty. I can put you in my fridge and have you over days. Yes, I can. The rest of you, you can go." The beast edged closer to Thomas. The rest of the group skidded to a stop, looking back, yelling things. "Don't listen to them," said the beast, and Thomas could no longer hear them. "Just surrender. Surrendering makes the first bite orgasmic." The long, glassy tongue of the beast licked at the whiskers on its face. It was like a cat, a big, ferocious cat, but not quite like a cat.

"Surrender."

It sniffed the blood thick in the air and smiled its cat-ish smile. Its teeth were in full swing, making a funnel of razors in its mouth that shined with steely glory.

Thomas stood. The beast reared back, grinning.

"You might want to lay back down. It makes it easier for me to eat you."

"Fuck you," Thomas said, and turned into a sprint. Time slowed again. Each speck of mud distinct as they flew off his boots. Each second stretched across the fear in his eyes.

The beast leapt, claws out. Thomas dropped low, knees carving into the mud, palms scraping the ground. Ivory claws clasped into Thom's side, tearing at his ribs in streaks of blazing heat. But the heft of the creature kept it moving, dragging the claws across the previous cuts on his back, soaring over Thom as the ground sank away in a steep ledge of sandstone, opening to the frigid air and circular abyss of Box Canyon. Teeth twisted in anger, lips curled in shock, and its eyes, those amber eyes, burst like dying stars into a black spiraling certainty.

Thomas watched the beast tumble, roaring in a language that only the biggest of house cats could understand. Its voice carried off and ended in a thump.

Then a full and total silence.

There in the mud, Thomas let the pain cover him and he collapsed onto his side. The group surrounded him, looking down at him, not sharing a thought.

"Fuck," said Heath.

"Shit," said Blake.

"Balls," said Marie.

"Are you alright?" Emily said. "That's a lot of blood."

"I hurt," Thomas said. "A lot."

"Get the fuck up." Heath grabbed his shoulder and pulled him onto his feet. "That thing is still down there."

"Ow, fuck, man."

"No way, it's definitely dead."

"Oh yeah? Definitely? You wanna bet your life on it?" Heath took the whole group in. "We need to make sure."

"Why the fuck would we do that?"

"No, he's right," Thomas said.

"No way. We should run."

"We can finish it while it's hurt," Blake said.

"Exactly," Heath said.

"Finish it?" Marie said. "Like, kill it?"

"No, not 'like'. I mean we're going to pick up a big rock and then drop it on the fuckin' thing's head."

"What the hell?"

"He's right, Marie." Emily took her by the shoulders. "If we can do it now, we have to. Or it could get the rest of the troop."

"Fuck the rest of the troop," Blake said. "It could get us. You heard that thing. It'll probably remember us or something."

"No way. I am not killing that thing."

"What if it follows us out? Hm? What if it follows you home? Would you do it for your family? Because it's going to kill them." Heath stepped away from the group. "I'll do it if none of you will help."

Heath lifted the flashlight and moved down the slope. Blake shrugged and followed after, followed by Emily.

"Thomas?"

He grabbed Marie's hand.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go."

At the mouth of Box Canyon, the cold air blew out with consistency. The group gathered and followed behind Heath and the beam of the flashlight. The rough walls parted, creating a horseshoe shape that dipped deeper into the earth. The space itself was tight and clustered with rocks and echoes of a trickling stream of water falling from somewhere above. The flashlight scanned, checking over rocks and between cracks for any sign of blood or broken bone.

Thomas clenched his teeth as the burning from his cuts grew. He felt his warm blood on him but his skin was cold and he shivered in the canyon, seeing his breath with each exhale.

Heath led them around a large, center rock and stopped. The flashlight landed on a stain, black and purple in color. It was fresh and dripping down the slope in the rocky floor making spider webs of alien blood. A trail of the blood led off and the group followed it, clinging to one another's arms and clothing.

An archway opened in the canyon wall, with symbols of an alien language carved into it. The blood led inside and looking at each other, they trudged forward, Thomas now leaning heavy against Heath.

The cave walls became smooth as they went in, the air frosted their breath and chilled their skin. Carvings continued, turning into intricate patterns as the cave walls straightened into something unnatural, something carved by a being (or many beings) that might have died thousands of years ago. The musk in the air smelt of eons passed, before dinosaurs roamed, and so far from this world that the light from the sun had never reached it before.

The flashlight blinked and showed them true darkness before going out for good. Even through gasps and smacks of palms on the walls, no words were shared. Heath tugged the group forward towards a light source that could have been days away. It was a pinprick on an endless blackness, at the end of a never ending hall.

With only a few steps they came to it, seeing that it was just a pinpoint of light. It spilt through a tiny hole in a large stone slab. Heath cupped his eye and peered in, leaving the group in total darkness for a moment, and in that moment they all held their breaths tight in their chest, only breathing when the light punched against their faces again.

The door opened on its own.

"Welcome, heroes," a voice spoke from inside. "Please, come inside."

No one moved.

"Lay your friend on the table. Together we can save him."

"I'm fine, man," Thomas said, looking pale in the light.

"Shut the fuck up," Heath said and dragged him into the chamber. In the center was a large stone platform. He laid Thomas on it. Around, on the walls hung tapestries that showed other Earths, and long forgotten wars. Alternate universes where heroes fought evil and claimed victory of darkness. These spiraled down to the floor, creating a carpet, and all of it connected to the center platform.

When the voice spoke, it came from nothing.

"I'm glad you all followed—

"Shut the fuck up and fix our friend."

"Yes. Of course. Emily, will you please step forward, dear?"

Emily's head snapped up. Heath's arm crossed her to stop her. "No. Just fix him."

"Emily can fix him."

"I—I can?"

"Yes, dear. Behold." A tapestry shifted, slithering from its position like a snake along the stone wall. Behind it, a staff of steel, topped with a glass orb. Inside the orb, a pink jelly moved and morphed. "Take the staff." Below the staff was an engraving. "Bubblegum," it said.

Emily stepped around Heath's arm and he dropped it. Cautious footsteps across the wars. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the staff. The pink jelly inside moved, swirling into an orb so quick that it lifted from the glass and hovered with the orb.

"Use the staff to heal him."

"I—

"You can. You remember."

"But…" she stepped up to Thomas. His chest was no longer rising. His blood painted the lower half of his body. She stretched out her hand over him. It trembled. She touched his soggy pant leg and closed her eyes. Her entire body shook with a sob. The orb hummed ever so slightly. It spoke to the blood and asked it to please go back inside its home. The orb was kind and pleasant, so the blood listened. Like water down stained glass, the blood bent and climbed into Thom's wounds. They were even so courteous to seal up the wounds as they went back in, gluing them together. It was like they never existed

Thomas gasped and rose from the table.

"Holy fuck!" He looked around at the group, then met eyes with Emily. She jerked back as he yelled, a single tear rolling down from her eye.

"I'm glad you returned, brave knight." Thomas looked up into the roof of the chamber and then back to the group. "Yes, you. If it weren't for your sacrifice the beast would have caught you all."

"I…I just ran like everyone else."

"Of course," the voice said. It waited for someone to say something, anything. To ask a question or to yell. But the group was still in silence. "Is anyone going to ask what's going on? This must be a lot to take in."

"Where's that thing? The cat thing?"

"That beast has slinked off back to its home to lick its wounds."

"We need to find it before it goes after more campers."

"It won't be a problem anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a mistake for it to find you in the first place. It should have never been in your woods."

"What if it comes back though?"

"Then you'll defeat it again. But this time," the voice said. "You'll be prepared." The other tapestries took life, rolling up or sliding to the side to reveal similar alcoves with various things inside of them. "But even if it doesn't come back, you still must be prepared. Because other things that don't belong might find their way into your woods."

"And we're going to stop them?"

"Yes. With these weapons."

"Shouldn't you get like, I don't know, an MMA fighter or something?"

"Yeah, or a hitman?"

"At least an athlete, right?"

"If others found this place, then others would take your place. But here you are."

"So we can just leave?"

"Why would you do that? You said it yourself, you have to protect the campers."

"Bitch's got a point," Heath said.

"It seems your woods are not very stable anymore. And that means that they either get protected or people die. Your people die. You die. It's nothing fancy. There isn't some sort of secret or a trick. There is danger, so I am here. It's my job. This is a job. These weapons let you do your job. And if you don't want the job then like I said—

"People die," Heath said. "Yeah. Okay. I understand."

"Do you? Do you all understand?"

"Yeah, it's like Spiderman," Thomas said. "Great power and all that shit."

"I really wish none of this had happened," Marie said. "I should've ran like Zoe."

"It's gonna be okay," Blake said. "She can fix us if anything happens."

"Yeah," Marie said.

"Does this work all the time?" Emily pointed at her staff.

"It won't save the dead, if that's what you mean. But if there's life, it will find it."

"What about us?"

"Well," the voice said. "If you didn't notice, I revealed all this cool stuff and you all just sort of ignored it."

"We're listening now."

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Marie said.

"Are you gonna leave?"

"Well, I fuckin' can't now. I know it's hear. What…what the hell would I do if one of you got hurt? Or if that thing came back and killed a camper out here? I wouldn't be able to live with myserlf. Jesus. This is fucked up. It's not fair."

"Does anyone want to actually listen to me now?" The voice said.

"Yes," Thomas said, standing. His hand went to Marie's shoulder and she shook it off.

"Okay, perfect. Brave knight, we'll start with you. A knight needs a sword. You will have the blade of Finn, a knight of heroic stature. His knowledge and skill are held deep within the gem of this blade. Keep it close and with time you will learn all it has to teach." Thomas stepped forward towards an alcove with a placard reading "Finn". The blade was white steel, the hilt made of sturdy plastic and embedded in the center, a navy orb.

"And you, strong one," she said to Heath. "A knight needs muscle, a protector, a loyal friend. These bracers are strange and powerful. Be careful to use them only in good heart and they shall never do you wrong." Heath approached the alcove next to Thomas, which read "Jake" and grabbed the golden gauntlets that wrapped snug around his forearms.

"For the goth girl," she said to Blake. "An axe fit for a queen. The axe thirsts for the blood of evil and drinks the red from their veins." Her alcove read "Marceline" and held a long necked axe with a double-headed blade at the top, edges reamed in red. "It also doubles as a killer bass guitar."

"Fuckin' sweet."

"And you. Girl who thinks this is unfair." Marie scowled up at nothing. "A cloak for shady business. It will protect you and let you move free through these woods. And it's quite stylish during all seasons." The cloak sang with autumn colors, swirled into cold winter haze, parted into a spring time jubilance, and landed on a blazing summer yellow. Marie, staring at it, smirked the slightest smirk, unseen by everyone, before taking it from the alcove. The placard below it read "BMO".

"Do you jobs and nothing bad should happen to you," the voice continued. "I will be around, doing my job. I'm not your babysitter or your commander or anything. If you have questions, the people of the forest can probably answer you."

"There's people in the forest?"  
"You're in the forest aren't you?" The group gathered by the table with their new toys, inspecting theirs and each other's. "One last thing. When you feel a pulse…that means the orb senses something close. A word of warning…the last people I hired waited for a pulse and found that it was too close. Don't be like them."

"What about school?" Emily said.

"Huh? What about what?"

"School?"

"I don't know who that is, but regardless, keep an eye out—

"No, no. School? It's a thing we go to? Where we learn? We have it like every day, and we have assignments and homework and—

"Oh, you all already have jobs?"

"No," Emily said. "Am I not explaining this right?"

"No, no, no, you are. This thing's just…whatever. What she means," Thomas said. "Is that we have other things we've gotta do."

"And they're more important?"  
"Well—

"Yes," Emily said. "For some of us."

"More important than saving people?"

"I—

"You say this is a job," Heath said. "But we ain't gettin' paid. You might not have school where you're from but you gotta have money? Currency? Green backs? Dead presidents?"

"Yes, of course. But no, I don't pay you for this."

"Oh, well fuck. You see, school helps us get jobs so—

"But you can keep whatever you find."

"Excuse?"

"Anything you find out there. Gold, weapons, whatever. You find it, it's yours."

'Is there…like…a lot of gold out there?" Blake said.

"Yeah, yeah," said Heath. "What she said."

"If you look in the right places."

"Like where?"

"Well," the voice sighed. "There are rumors of abandoned keeps and lost libraries and—

"Sold. Done. It's a done deal. We're finding one of those keeps." Heath grabbed Thom by the shirt and pulled him hard. "We're gonna be rich, motha fucka!" Releasing him, he hooped and hollered, punching his dressed fists in the air.

"Yes, quite," said the voice. "I really must be going now."

The group clamored together, talking, worrying, gossiping about nothing important.

"That means you have to leave."

"But I've got more questi—

"Nope. For real. I must be going. So if you please. Thank you."

With that the group exited the chamber, returning to Box Canyon. As they left the archway in the stone, it vanished behind them and their radios sparked with life. Emily's mother's voice barked through her speaker. They didn't share any words of importance in that moment, but they knew that something was happening. Something that didn't make sense yet. And it scared and excited them.

Yo! That's the end of chapter one. I hope you dig it. Let me know what you think of the characters and what you think will happen next. Who's going to like who? Who's going to give up? Who's going to fall in love? Who's going to die? I'll probably let you know and spoil it for you.


	2. Thomas Alone

The orbs hadn't pulsed. Seven summer days melted through screen doors and water bottles as Thomas went back and forth. The ride from his front porch to the woods took fourteen minutes. He timed it several times. He made the ride four times a day. Early in the morning, with the air thick with humidity, he'd get there before the sun came up. Then he'd eat his breakfast, something small and easy to carry. Then he'd trek the woods, hiking for hours as the sun climbed its way above him. When it was beating down on his head, he'd ride home for lunch. After he ate he'd ride back and do it again. Sometimes Heath would join but most of the time it was just him. The group agreed that they'd patrol on the weekends, during the scout trip. Thomas couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't enough.

He never found anything that first week. He stuck to the trails that twisted as much as ten miles into the wood. Never a vibration nor quiver from the orb. On Thursday he climbed to the top of the largest hill he could find and held the orb up. Maybe the trees block the signal, he thought. But all he got was a gorgeous view and more mosquito bites.

Blisters packed his feet. When he popped them and went back hiking, the wound of that blister would get another blister. He'd never walked so much in his life, but he tossed the pain aside. He tossed his hunger and his tiredness aside. He wouldn't get home until midnight most nights, telling his mom that he was with Heath. He wouldn't eat dinner because he didn't know how to cook, so he'd go to sleep just to wake up five hours later and start peddling.

In total he lost three pounds that first week.

That Friday began just the same. Five o'clock bike, small breakfast, ignore the tummy rumbles, start hiking. He took the barn loop trail out till he could cross through the fields. On the other side of the fields the snug lion trail curved out alongside the edge of the state owned park. It went out towards the Appalachians, uncharted land. The trail was overgrown and disappeared completely in some spots. As a boy scout he had never hiked out of the state part, but the eagle scouts were expected to. To camp and stay within the limits was considered weak.

He removed his phone and texted the group. "What're you up to today?"

"Shopping with mom before tonight," Marie replied.

"Out of town, might not make it to the scouts, but should be okay," said Blake.

"With the girl, mang," said Heath.

"Nothing right now, just waiting for tonight," said Emily.

The last text sat on the screen. It made his stomach float to see a text from Emily. Just reading the name to himself made a smile come across his face.

"I'm pushing deeper into the woods today. I could use your healing help just in case. I'm out past the fields. Bring your walkie." He sent the text to just her and put his phone away, not wanting to wait and see a reply. Maybe then she'd have to show up, he thought.

Then he pushed on into the dense forest.

The trail tapered off at a point and the ground became littered in dead tree needles, creating a floor of rust that crunched under foot. He hiked for another mile into it before checking the map. Unfolding it, laying it out, pinning it down with some rocks, and laying out his compass.

He wasn't where the map said. The compass needle rocked around pointing south west. Cocking his eyes up, he moved the rocks to turn the map upside down when—

"Well, well, what do we have here?" A queer, British voice from behind him.

Thomas turnt, still on his knees. Several small creatures, what could only be described as goblins, were exiting the trees, circling him. The one that spoke was a shade of light green with specks of black on the top of his bald head.

"Looks like an artless, beetle-headed, gudgeon," said a dark blue goblin.

"Yes, a loggerheader, half-faced, flap-dragon," said a crimson one.

"I'd consider him a simple, ill-nutured, lewdster if you asked me," said a greenish-yellow one.

"Well no one asked you you horn-beater," said the last, which had a blackish hue.

They all spoke in staunch, English accents. Swords hung at their sides and crossbows held loose in their hands. Their leader, the light green one, stood in front of Thomas, crossbow leaned on his shoulder. With Thomas kneeling, they were equal height.

"Stand you bloody miscreant." Thomas did. The goblin craned his neck to look up. "Alright, never mind. Back on your knees, flap-dragon."

"I already used that one, sir," said the crimson one.

"Damn," said the leader. "Hedge-pig?" The crimson one nodded. "That's right. Down on your knees, hedge-pig."

Thomas dropped back to his knees and the goblins giggled.

"We're the Dead Poet's Society, you gorbellied, fool-born, puttock. And we're here for your sword."

"What?"

"I said, we're here for you sword."

"No, the first part."

"What about the first part?"

"I don't recall asking you what you were."

"Well—really? I could've sworn." The leader looked to his companions for support. They shrugged. "Regardless, it's the first question we always get so it's best to answer it forthright."

"I think it's stupid."

"Stu—you hush your mouth you pribbling, onion-eyed, harpy!"

"Sir, sir. Your blood pressure. Please?" said the dark blue one.

"Yes, yes, sorry, Steven." The leader took a deep breath. "And sorry, captor. I didn't mean to lose my temper with someone so stupid."

"Captor? That's what you are."

"Excuse?"

"A captor is someone who captures."

"Yes, I knew that. Don't be such a fool," said the leader. "I called you captor because…you are our captor. You captured our attention with that blade of yours."

"Right," said Thomas. "Just admit you fucked up. It's alright." Thomas inched his hand back closer to the hilt, which stuck up from his scabbard between his book bag and his back.

"We did not muck up."

"Fuck."

"What?"

"I said fuck, not muck."

"Well we don't say…uck, we say muck."

"Whatever float your boat."

"Floats my boat? We are not sailors you frother, fen-sucked, foot licker!"

"Sir, blood pressure."

"Yes, sorry, Steven."

"Listen man," said Thomas. "Just admit you fucked up and I'll give you the blade. No charge."

"No charge, ey?" The leader motioned for the other goblins and they huddled together, whispering to themselves. And though he couldn't hear it, the conversation went something like this.

"I really want the sword, guy," said the leader.

"We know boss," said the crimson one. "It's our gift to you for three months as leader."

"That's so lovely. It really is. But we have to admit I was wrong to get it."

"We could just kill him," said the black.

"It's okay, sir, it really is."

"You think? I mean, we all know I wasn't wrong."

"Of course."

"Sure."

"We should just kill him."

"And we all know that if I admit it that I'd have my fingers crossed behind my back, so as to say that I didn't mean it, right?"

"Sure, sure."

"Excellent."

"Of course."

"It'd be as easy as all of us shooting at the same time. Bang. Right in the head."

"And that means that I wasn't really wrong and that I in fact was quite right, as I always am."

"Yes, your excellency."

"Of course."

"Brilliant plan, sir."

"I think he's trying to get away."

The last one was right. Thomas picked himself up and tiptoed back towards a tree when the goblins turned and saw him. They drew crossbows and yelled out a flurry of insults meant to paralyze him but only confused him.

"Goatish, doghearted, death-token!"

"Dankish, dismal-dreaming, codpiece!"

"Weedy, rump-fed, vassal!"

"Sir, sir! See what I mean. We should just kill him now."

"Yes, yes," said the leader. "Listen, puny, milk-livered, moldwarp. We're not admitting I was wrong. You, sir, are not gentlemanly."

"Gentlemanly?"

"Gentlemanly."

"Well I'm offended."

"As you should—wait…you haven't been offended this whole time? What about all the clever insults?"

"I don't know," Thomas shrugged. "Didn't understand half of them."

"Oh," said the leader. He turned to his troupe. "I see what it is now. We're dealing with a barbarian." The troupe nodded in agreeance.

"That's fair."

"Sounds right."

"Shoulda killed him already."

"Kill him," said the leader, and a volley of five crossbow bolts snapped towards Thomas. With great speed he drew the blade and cut one down. Two missed wide and stuck into the tree behind him, while the other two dug once into his thigh and once into his side. The pain was sharp and instant, like a bee sting deep that burned deep below the skin.

Thomas leapt toward them, sword up as they reloaded, landing amidst them. "Aha!" he shouted as he swung the blade deft, hacking into the dark-blue goblin. It screamed out a final insult, "Pribbling, nut-hook!" and fell to the ground, clutching its wound.

"Fire!" The leader said. But with them so close, they lifted their crossbows and bumped into each other and Thomas.

"We're too close, sir!"

"Well, back away you mangled, elf-skinned, lout!"

"Gotcha!" Thomas arced the blade up into light-green goblin, breaking its jaw and sending it spiraling up and over the group into the dirt. "Paunchy, scut," it whimpered as it passed.

The other three backed away, lifted their crossbows, and fired. Again, Thomas spun and deflected one bolt, but the other two embedded into his back. He arched back and howled in pain. The goblins giggled. "Good shot, lads!" said the leader.

"Should we reload?" said the crimson one.

"No, no," said the black. "I want to use me blade."

"Yes," said the leader. "On the offensive."

The goblins shoddy swords were rusty at the edges and scraped the scabbard as they were drawn. They looked like large shanks more than professional blades. When they charged they did so by fanning out, coming at Thomas from three angles. He turned towards the crimson one and kicked out, knocking him away, then spun to face the leader and parried his assault, but didn't have enough time to block the last. The black goblin slashed vicious into Thom's calf, forcing him down onto one knee.

Thom punched the leader away and twisted around to block the next swing from the black goblin. Their blades met and Thom's dug into the weak metal but didn't go all the way through. This stuck them together, as they tug-of-warred back and forth, trying to get their blades free. This left enough time for the crimson goblin to get up and flank Thom, poking him in the ribs.

"Ow! Quit that!"

"Tottering, shard-borne, pignut!"

"I don't even know what that means!" Thomas punched the crimson goblin in the face and it spun face down into the mud. The black goblin used the opportunity to reach into its side pouch and remove a dagger, which it plunged into the top of Thom's shoulder. He screamed out and pushed forward, using his weight to slam the black goblin into the ground, ignoring his stuck blade. Once on top of the disgusting little creature, he punched down as hard as he could, but the goblin was agile and moved his head. With that miss, the goblin grabbed the stuck swords and used them like a club on Thom, clunking him in the head.

"Rank measle! Rank measle!"

"That's it!" Said the leader, who was helping the crimson goblin up. "Get him! Show that mammet who's boss!"

"I thought you were the boss, boss," said the crimson one.

"Shut it, Tomen."

"Rank mealse!" The black one wailed on Thom from the ground as Thom tried to shield his face, but to no avail. To save himself he had to push away from the goblin and scutter across the ground before standing. He could feel the bruises welting on his face, the sharp pains in his back and side and leg. The blood coating his shoulder.

The black goblin charged and Thom gripped the tiny dagger that stuck from his shoulder, gritted his teeth, called out like a little girl to yank it free. As the goblin leapt and swung the two blades, Thom plunged the dagger into its face. The body of the black goblin dropped back, spouting blood and brains. Thom then picked up the two weapons, banged them on the ground once, and broke his superior blade free.

Two more crossbow bolts slammed into his torso.

"Ha!" said the crimson one. "Good plan, sir."

"Yes, we really got him good."

"Should we reload?"

"I should, yes. You though, you grab your sword and go get him."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Go on. Get that quailing, hugger-mugger!"

The crimson goblin charged forward, sword out like a fencer, poking fiercely, laughing through rotted teeth. Thomas side stepped, foot out, tripped him, and leaned on his sword into the back of the little guy. He gasped like a terrible actor, reached out to the mud, gripped it, then died.

"Drat," said the leader, who was only halfway through loading his crossbow.

Thomas charged him as quick as he could, hobbling on his wounded leg. The leader raised the cross bow. Thomas swung his sword. The metal clanged the crossbow and turned it. It fired. The bolt shot out and dug into Thom's right arm instead of his chest. Thom screamed but raised his sword in his left hand and stabbed it into the belly of the goblin leader.

Its little goblin claws grasped at Thom, digging into his skin for one last attack. "Rank…dizzy-eyed…pumpion…" it said. And then it died.

And the forest went silent.

Thomas collapsed to his knees, sword at his side. So many bolts stuck from his body. The feeling was hitting him hard as the stinging from the wounds turned to an intense burning, like a saw grinding against his flesh. The shoulder wound throbbed. He couldn't feel his left arm. When he tried to pick up his sword, his grip was so loose the hilt just slipped back into the mud. His right arm yelped whenever he moved it. The crossbow bolt was sticking into the bone. He could feel it, picture it in his mind, the metal grinding against the white of his bone.

Crawling over to his map and compass, which he had to right and clean off, he saw that it pointed due-north again. He knew where he was, approximately. Not wanting to do too much, he left the map and compass, gripped his blade, and hobbled from tree to tree. At times he would stumble and lay on the forest floor for as long as ten minutes, feeling the heaviness of sleep coming over him. To fight it he'd merely touch one of the crossbow bolts and the cold pain would pull back his eyelids and tell him to keep moving.

Emily's just up ahead, he thought. She's just on the trail. Just a little further.

But after every tree, after every step, she wasn't any closer. He never saw her.

The pain kept mounting. There was no adrenaline to stop it. There was nothing but agony and the warmth of his own blood. When he fell probably the fifteenth time, he didn't get up. He rolled onto his back and looked up into the forest roof. The tree branches swayed back and forth in the wind. A few gaps of light would poke through as they did, brightening up the woods. A big gust came and opened the tree tops wide enough to see the clouds and sun up above. It was noon. Time for lunch. Thomas felt his stomach grumble.

The clouds moved quick across the sky. He watched them grow in this strong breeze. They morphed and stacked taller. They made shapes and if he had the strength left in him, he would have noticed that one looked like a goblin. But he didn't. He closed his eyes and thought, this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

And was awoken with a jolt, sucking in a lungful of air, wheezing and coughing.

Emily's face was looking down at him. She smiled and the hum of her staff droned into Thom's ears. The throbbing of his shoulder twisted around and pulled up, moving out of his body. The knife-wound closed up, zipping shut at both ends. A stack of crossbow bolts, neat and shined, laid next to him.

Even with her healing his body still reacted to the punishment it was given with dull aches and weak muscles. Sitting up was a groan-inducing struggle. But as he did, he noticed that Emily was in uniform. The sun was just a bit lower in the sky. Gathered around him, the group looked down at him. Thomas reached out for Emily's hand but she had backed away.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Marie stepped forward, hands on hips, chest leaned forward. "You didn't text anyone? You didn't call us? You could've fucking died!"

"I…" Thomas looked at Emily. She wouldn't meet his eyes. "You all were busy."

"Busy?" Marie's face was a painting of fury. "So you come out here alone? And what? Get shot forty-fuckin'-times? You're lucky the god damn orbs pulsed. They went nuts and we rushed here, texting you, thinking there was some huge danger, only to find that it was you they were freaking out about. No park ranger would have found you. We would have never found you. You'd just be dead out here and no one would fuckin' know why. You fucking asshole."

"I—

"We all agreed to go only on the weekends. We agreed. All of us."

"I just—

"You should've told someone! Any of us would have come out here."

"You…" he looked at Emily again. Arms folded, eyes at her feet. "You were all busy. I was just patrolling."

"We—what?"

"I texted you all," he said. "You were all busy. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"No one knew you were coming out here, Thomas!" Marie turned away.

"Okay, okay," Heath said. "I think that's enough yelling at him."

"It's not nearly enough. He almost died."

"Sure, fine. But he didn't."

"Heath, shut the fuck up." Heath raised his hands and stepped back.

"It's no big fuckin' deal, okay?" Thomas struggled to his feet. "I've been coming out here every day because I was worried that something would happen and the weekends wouldn't be enough." On the ground, his sword lay, covered in dried goblin blood. "And I was right." Stooped to pick it up and used it to hoist himself back up. "My orb didn't pulse when the goblins attacked me."

"Goblins?"

"They ambushed me and I fought them off."

"Like D&D goblins?"

"They're dead now." Thomas looked at the group, taking them all in. "I'm not apologizing for coming out here and doing our duty. We're all going to get hurt. That's why we were given a cleric." Emily still wouldn't meet his eye. "Now, I fucked up being out here alone. I apologize for not pressing harder on you guys to come with me. But these goblins could have killed someone. Multiple someones. And now they're dead. I killed them. Me. Not you." The blood was sticky on the blade. It caught on the scabbard. "And I'm going to continue to come out here every day if I have to."

Silence.

The group stood around him in a half semi-circle, playing with their thumbs and twisting the edges of their uniforms. Thomas stepped forward, looking at them.

"Who's with me? Huh? What the hell else are you going to do?"

"I'm with you, man," Heath said. You know I got my sister sometimes, but I'll be out here whenever I can. Thomas nodded.

"I think we should all be out here," Marie said. "I think it's too dangerous for just one of us, or just two of us."

"Then are you going to be out here?"

"I…" she paused, looking at her cloak. "I'll do what I can. I don't know. I can't promise that."

"Whatever," Thomas said. He turned his back to the group, looking out into the woods.

"What? What do you want us all to do? Throw our lives away to walk around in the woods all day?"

"That's what I did all this week. What are you saying? I have no fucking life?" Thomas turned back around and moved several, angry steps closer to everyone. "This is fucking serious. All of this. It's fucking real. I'm not asking you to do anything. That fucking thing, it gave us these things and now it's our fucking responsibility. That's it. It's not a question anymore. It's a real thing. It's happening. Maybe even right now and we're sitting here unsure about whether we're going to do anything about it."

"We're not unsure—

"Yes you are. If you weren't unsure you'd all understand and you'd come with me right now and we'd patrol." A vein in Thom's neck was pulsing loud. "But you all found me dying out here today and you think it's my fault. That's what this is."

"I—

"No. I'm done talking about it." He turned away for good, walking towards the trees. "This is serious. And I don't think any of you will understand it until you're found lying face down in your own blood."

And he disappeared into the woods.


End file.
